If You Want to Live
by Corky the Quirk
Summary: A Terminator: Salvation fic involving a young Kyle Reese and a cyborg sent from the future to protect him a year after Marcus passes on...
1. Not A Boy

**Author's Note:** Okay, so most of this was written during the summer, so I can't guarantee it's going to be updated even remotely soon, I just figured I my as well post it for anyone who wants a little more Kyle Reese/Anton Yelchin stories. So hopefully you enjoy what I have so far :)

**Disclaimer:** I own my characters and plot, but nothing else...

**Chapter One: Not a Boy**

_Early 2031_**  
**

I guess I maybe should have planned out where I was going to stand better than I actually did, but when you hold a ticking grenade in your hand and have a troop of T-1000s standing in front of you, advancing closer every second, not to mention firing off varying weapons, you don't really think too much about where exactly your feet are positioned after you throw the grenade and watch the robots explode into an array of sharp, shooting metal icicles.

John Connor found me laying where I fell, bleeding out of my gut in a puddle of muck, a particularly nasty chunk of shrapnel lodged in my abdomen. The look in his eyes confirmed what I already knew. I was as good as dead. Which is why I didn't understand when he glanced over his shoulder, turned back to me, and swooped my limp, useless body off the ground. Yet he had pulled me from the cold clutches of death and brought me into an isolated room away from the rest of the commotion. I had never been in this room before, never even knew it existed; by the medical equipment surrounding the cot on which I lay, I figured it must be used for intensive care. But I was beyond intensive care.

"Stay here," John ordered softly before exiting the room. I had no problem following that command; just breathing caused jolts of pain to sprint through my exhausted body.

It could have been minutes, it could have been hours, I don't know how long it was before John returned with Kate and Blair. Kate, ever the motherly woman, rushed to my bedside. "Peth?" she whispered, unsure as to whether I could hear her or not in my fragile state.

I opened my mouth to answer, but all that came out was a congested cough, spouting blood over my cheeks. Kate reached out for the nearest rag and wiped my face of all my bodily fluids; from the door Blair crossed her arms and whispered "She doesn't have much time John." As if I couldn't hear; as if I wasn't there. Then again, what did it matter what she said around me; I _wouldn't_ be there soon enough.

"I can see that," John hissed, and Kate gave him a reproachful glance before turning her attention back to me.

"And you made sure she was okay with it?" I heard Blair ask. John shrugged his shoulders, and Blair shook her head, "You haven't even mentioned it, have you?" Together they walked over to my bed and stood over me, just looking, staring. Blair grabbed my hand, kneeling on the ground to get to my level. "Peth? Can you hear me?"

Remembering what had happened the last time I had tried to talk, I decided on nodding instead, not wishing for another blood face wash. Blair licked her lips, eyes darting to John, then smiled, or rather grimaced, down at my slowly fading life. "Peth, we need to know if you'd be interested in another life. Or at least a chance at another life," she said quietly, as if what she was saying was sacred.

I scrunched my forehead down in confusion. I was dying, and all they could do was ask if I wanted another life. It's not like I wanted to die, I didn't want this to be the end, and I didn't want them to patronize me. Kate noticed the agitated expression plastered across my agonized face and understood. "We might be able to do something for you, Peth," she proceeded cautiously, trying to calm me, the dying girl.

My eyes widened. Kate would never do or say anything to mislead someone she cared about. And she basically cared about any human being that was with the Resistance. A little over a year was plenty long enough for Kate to get attached to a soldier. So I believed her, and frantically nodded my head up and down. Blair's lips pulled into a tight line. "Okay," she barely let escape her mouth.

A stabbing pain pulsed through my stomach and I seized up, wincing, clenching my fists and hissing through my teeth. Jesus Christ it hurt like hell.

"John," Kate and Blair spoke at the same time. Kate with concern for me, Blair with urgency.

"Peth," John took over, "Before you say anything, there's something you need to know. What we're going to try is not guaranteed. You could still die." Kate glared at John's blatancy, but he continued on. "Do you know what the Cyborgs were? Do you remember anything about them?"

I blinked, trying to think, but my mind was becoming a swamp of swirling haze, and I couldn't seem to sift through anything. I vaguely recalled Blair and John discussing someone named Marcus, who was somehow associated with Cyborgs, a few times, but I had never met the man, and nothing had ever been explained to me. I knew the basics about Cyborgs, but once again, I had never encountered one.

John rubbed his forehead, weary with such a hard life. "Cyborgs were part human, part machine. They still had their brains, their hearts, their vital organs. But they had machine exoskeletons. In the end, they became too dangerous for Skynet to use; they mutinied against Skynet, choosing the Resistance over them. Blair's been studying the process since before you came along," at this he took a break to look at Blair, who appeared to be wiping something out of her eye. "We've been wanting to attempt the procedure, but not on a healthy being, and we've never been able to find anyone in well enough condition once they've passed to try it out."

"Until now," I managed to croak.

Kate nodded, "Until now."

I coughed a bit, Kate cleaning up my bile, as Blair began to hustle around the room, picking up and putting down scalpels and prongs with amazing agility. John stared down at me with his dark, piercing eyes. "What is your choice, Peth?" he asked gravely, "Do you want to die? Or are you willing to try for a second chance."

Before my world swirled into into a bottomless black I breathed, "Try."

* * *

I didn't understand why everyone at the base, Blair included, stared at me with such consternation. I was like I always had been, except that the dogs hated me now. Stupid mutts; who had fed them when she herself was going without? Me, that's who. And yet, no one treated me the same, except for John, Kate, their son, TJ, and every now and again Barnes, if he felt like it. It was as if everyone else thought I would suddenly break out in a Terminator tantrum and go psycho on all of them, ripping them limb from limb. Yes, I was stronger and faster than all of them ever would be, but I was still me.

I tried to convince myself that they were just in awe at a successful experiment. No one honestly believed I would live through the procedure, and I suppose it was normal to not keep hopes up too high; that way, you wouldn't be disappointed as easily. But, ultimately they had wanted for me to survive, that had been what they wanted to accomplish. Well, mission accomplished, whoo hoo. Except that they didn't act like they were glad; people I had known for years, people who had saved me, people who I had saved, gave me odd looks every time I was within eye sight. I was expecting someone to run away from me with their arms flailing wildly pretty soon.

And so, I got used to being alone. I was kept at base because too many soldiers were wary of having a Terminator in their presence, as if the mere sight of other machines would set me off. But I had no chip in my head. I was controlled by no one. That was the deal, John had explained when I was first waking up. I was everything a Terminator could be, without the price of having no control over what I did. I was free.

I still felt trapped though. There was nothing left for me here if I was forced to stay underground because my own troops feared me. After a while, I began to sense that John knew how worthless I felt to the cause.

I was scooping food into my mouth, what kind of food, I couldn't decipher, but it was food all the same. I was huddled in the corner that I had taken up as my permanent residence, not that anyone cared; it was convenient, because I stayed out of other people's ways, and that's how everyone liked it.

John carried his own tray of slop over to where I was, leaning against the wall and surveying the base with blank eyes that had been accustomed to being averted. I glanced up at John, wondering what it was he needed, eager to get some sort of assignment. I just wanted to do something.

He licked around his front teeth, not wanting to speak particularly to me. Whatever, I knew no one really wanted to. I was the scary robot. Be afraid, very afraid. "Peth," he began, as if I was his kid and I needed to be told something very important, the way parents used to begin their conversations with their children like 'Dick, smoking is bad' or 'Jane, boys only want one thing'. I sat up a little straighter, whatever it was he had to say, I was ready. "Members of the Resistance are getting edgy with you around."

I blinked rapidly for a second. I knew that already, it was pretty obvious by the way I was avoided like the plague.

"You're not fitting in like we wanted, like we expected," he went on solemnly. I wanted to scream at him. It wasn't my fault. He should know that. Every God damn person at our Resistance base veered away from me. "I think it would be better if I sent you on a solo mission."

"There's no other kind of mission for me," I whispered harshly, all too aware that it was more of a 'we're kicking you out' mission than an actual assignment.

"What I'm about to send you to do is the most important thing you, or anyone else, will do for quite some time. Do you understand that?" John was saying, gazing deep into my eyes with a ferocity I had never seen him use before.

I nodded my head yes, which was a lie. Of course I didn't understand; John's lax explanation sucked. Thankfully, he opened his mouth to give me the details. "I'm going to send you to the past, Peth; there's a young man there that I need you to protect." Oh great, my mission was to be a baby sitter. "It's very important that you understand his protection comes before anything else. You have a second lease on life; use it well," he advised. And that's when it all clicked in my head. Yeah, maybe they had tried to save me just to see if they actually could, but they had ulterior motives. They needed me to protect some kid from the past. I had no chip in my brain controlling me, but guilt worked just as effectively.

"Where is he now?" I asked, wondering.

"He's dead," John replied, deadpan.

"Oh," I swallowed, "Well that sucks."

John ignored my remark and launched further into my instructions. "Do you remember a man named Kyle Reese?"

This time when I nodded my head I wasn't lying. I had heard stories about Reese my entire life from Kate and Blair. For some reason they had felt it necessary for me to know little interesting things about him, little quirks and tales of his bravery. I could never figure out why, and this just confused me more with John bringing him up again.

John clenched his jaw. "Your purpose in this war was determined before you were even born Peth, and now it's time to fulfill that purpose."

I narrowed my eyes. My purpose? I wasn't aware I had a purpose besides being the best medic and soldier I could be.

"A few months before you showed up here, we sent Kyle Reese back in time as well, but your job is to keep him safe while he's a boy. You stick with him until I tell you not to. Got it?"

I raised my eyebrows, "You're coming with me?"

"No," and I saw him grin for the first time in my life, "But I'll be there, trust me."

"Anything else I need to know?" I asked caustically. I mean, I had no idea what the kid even looked like, let alone how I would find him and convince him that I was to be his lifelong protector.

"Yeah," John piped up, "Don't fall in love the boy."

First off, why he would say 'Don't fall in love with the boy' is beyond me. I am not the kind of silly girl who goes around falling for every guy I see, let alone a _boy_. I'm not a pedophile. But, I trusted him, just like he said to.

* * *

_2019 _**  
**

The thing I realized first when I arrived in the past was that the pose I was in was just so stupid. John had positioned me in what he had deemed the 'safe' and 'correct' way to go about time travel. I just thought it made me look like a total loser. I would think if you wanted to be safe, you'd be curled up in a little ball, covering your head. But no. You kneel with one leg and you prop one arm up on your leg, then you bend your head, bowing to who knows what. I found it all a bit ridiculous. Not to mention throughout your journey to your destination its insanely hard to stay in that macho position. I don't even know how he knew that was 'correct'.

The next thing I noticed was that I was as naked as the day I was born. And I had no idea where there would be extra clothes lying around for me, considering I was in the middle of a deserted and war-torn city. And I was flashing everyone. Which actually turned out to only be two people: some guy my age and a little girl that kept silent. Can you say embarrassing?

And it got even worse when the guy drew a pump shotgun and waved it around, demanding I stand up and surrender or whatever, not exactly sure what to do since I hadn't threatened him in any way. I think he was having difficulty deciding whether or not I was human or terminator...and either one of those would really be correct.

"Put your hands up," he commanded.

I raised one of my eyebrows in defiance. I mean, I was naked, and I was currently using both arms to cover areas of my body that I didn't exactly want him to see. "Pervert," I mumbled.

He looked taken aback, as if no one had ever spoken that way to him before. He actually lowered the weapon a little bit. But only a little. "Alright, you can leave your hands where they are," he relented. He looked as if he had just realized what he would be seeing if I raised my arms, and seemed to be a little apologetic. But not much. Slowly and cautiously handing his rifle to the girl, never taking his eyes from me, he jogged over to a dust covered scrap of tarp that was half concealed under what used to be a working vehicle. Ripping what he could salvage of the tarp from underneath the overturned vehicle, he tossed it in my direction. Revealing my womanhood for less than a second I snatched up the tarp and wrapped it under my armpits, tying it at the top of my bust. Very creative if I do say so myself...although it still revealed basically all the way up my legs. The young man interrupted my thoughts by inquiring, "What's your name? Where are you from?" Then he added, "And put your hands up."

I rolled my eyes but obeyed this time. I knew the fatality of a bullet. "My name's Carter Peth. I'm a Private under John Connor, but a damn good medic as well. I'm from the future." Oh God that sounded cheesy coming from my mouth.

The guy looked me over, as if calculating how trustworthy was possible just by glancing me up and down. "Why were you sent back?"

I huffed. "I was sent on a mission to protect Kyle Reese, you know the guy?"

The little girl's head snapped up to stare at me, and the older boy had an expression of shock across his face. "Yeah, I know him. Was it John Connor who sent you?"

I placed a hand on my hip, ignoring the whole 'hand in the air' order. "Is it any of your business?"

A smirk appeared on his lips and he replied with, "You're standing practically naked in the middle of a highly active attack area at gunpoint; I'd say it would be wise of you to answer my questions."

"Look," I began, getting agitated, "I was sent back to protect this Kyle Reese kid by John Connor, so it would be wise of you to take me to one of those two."

The girl turned her surprised face up at the young man. He was biting his lip, thinking intently. "You're gonna have to come with me," he said quietly. I couldn't detect whether or not this was a good thing or a bad thing. For one, I didn't know who this guy was, and two, I had no idea where I was supposedly going with him.

I raised an eyebrow and was thinking of saying something in protest, but he had picked up the gun again and was hurriedly herding me in the direction of wherever-the-hell it was he wanted to go. The quiet girl trotted behind me until she was on the opposite side of me than the boy, who, although he held the gun at point blank, didn't seem too confident in whether he would truly pull the trigger. Shame. The Resistance could use a few more tough, hardened kids who aren't afraid of a few fireworks. Then again, I suppose I was glad he wasn't trigger-happy, because if he was, who's to say I'd still be breathing?

In a relatively short period of time we arrived, miraculously without attack, although I swear the wind was out to get me a few times when it sneak attacked and blew my tarp open at random moments. And when we arrived, I nearly keeled over. We were back at the Resistance base, although it was much different than how it looked in the future. There were no big changes or anything, just little quirks, like the door hanging ajar on a certain building and whatnot.

The entrance the boy used was different too. Between now and my time, it must have been blocked off, deemed unsafe, discovered, something that caused it to be unusable, so by the time we got to the inner

workings of the base, I needed to readjust my bearings. And once again, everything was pretty much the same, only minuscule differences.

The girl rushed ahead, popping her head into doorways here and there, searching for someone or something. She finally disappeared into the fifth doorway she tried and promptly returned with some higher officers following in her stead. I dared meet the middle man's eyes and I would have toppled over had I been prone to clumsiness.

So this was what John Connor looked like with less worry wrinkles. And next to him was Kate. And Blair. And Barnes. And each of them were like the base. Similar but different. They were more hardened it seemed, harsher, sharper. Age had mellowed them a bit, somehow. And to tell the truth, I had no inkling as to how to convince any of them as to the meaning and origin of my mission.

What added to my confusion was when John stared down the guy and gruffly reprimanded, "I thought I told you to stay put today, Reese."

And he was _not_ a 'boy'.

* * *

**Author's Note:** So that's what I've got for now. Leave a comment please, so that I can improve and what not! Thanks!


	2. A Beginning Acceptance

**Author's Note:** Oh boy...so this has taken an excruciatingly long time to get up and I'm very sorry about that! But recently, I finished my first year of college and am now into my summer months. So, while cleaning out my dorm, I decided that I would use the rest of the pages of my planner to set up a schedule for updating my stories here on FF. Hopefully this means that this story will get updated much more often than it took to get this chapter up. I'm not really sure what I think about this chapter, but I'll give it a whirl. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** Anything you recognize from the Terminator franchise does not belong to me. Private Carter Peth belongs to my imagination.

* * *

**If You Want to Live: Chapter 2: A Beginning Acceptance**

I'm stuck in the room that John locked me in; although, honestly, if I wanted to, I could easily break down the door. However, I just don't want to come across as some crazy, psycho Terminator. First impressions are crucial and I'd rather not have a bullet lodged in my brain. Because most likely John has a few good shots outside the door, just waiting for me to try and wreak havoc upon the base. Because I'm really like that.

When the door is finally opened and John Connor enters the room, I merely cross my arms, still sitting on the ground and leaning against the wall. I nod my head in greeting, as he curtly bobs his head back. He stands near the door, which is left open a crack. I can just see the tip of a barrel of a gun before it disappears off to the side. Waiting. I roll my eyes. "If I wanted to kill Kyle Reese I'm pretty sure I'd have done it the moment I saw him. You know, when all he had for protection was a pump shot gun and an unarmed mute girl." I sigh and lean my head back against the dingy stone wall, waiting.

John visibly clenches his jaw, assessing me. I don't blame him for being precautious in the least. It's a hard world we live in, and letting trust slip through your hands for anyone to catch is never a good idea. I set my jaw with just as much determination and repeat lines from the story I told them all earlier. "You said I had to watch over Kyle Reese until _you_ told me to stop. I don't know why, but I couldn't exactly question it when you're the reason I'm still…alive-ish." Sure, I had a pulse, but I was part machine, so did that really count?

John continued to stand there, his hands behind his back, shoulders broad and strong, staring down at me with those blank eyes, a storm brewing behind his mask. There was no convincing him. I shook my head in frustration. Was I doomed to be doubted no matter what year I resided? "Look. You always used to tell me stories about some guy named Marcus. I don't know why, but that's what I remember the most. Stories about this cyborg man that did some great shit or whatever. Blair was working on studying how Cyberdyne had created him. You needed a vessel to try your little experiment on, and I was convenient."

I glanced up at him through my heavy lashes, trying to see behind the façade of carelessness he had put up to hide what he was really thinking. Without a word he turned around and left the room, leaving me there with my knees protectively pulled up, my arms wrapped around them, huddled against the wall. I most definitely looked pathetic, sitting there in the mismatched clothes they had at least scrounged up for me to wear. I gulped in desperation. I didn't want to be stuck in a windowless room for the rest of my life, however long or short that may be.

When the door opens again, hours later, it's not John Connor who's come to visit. It's the boy. Who really isn't much of a boy and more of a man than anything. I'm still in my semi-fetal position, forehead resting against my crossed arms. I lift my head to see that it's Reese and then lower it back down. Who says he'll listen any better than John, and I'm sick of wasting my words on deaf ears.

"So you're here to protect me," he stated, leaning against the portion of wall nearest the door, crossing his arms. His voice is relatively high pitched and grating, but he's got it lowered in order to sound tough. I sigh, letting my legs stretch out in front of me and my arms drop to my sides as I nod my head in reply. "I don't need a babysitter," he spits out, raising his eyebrows in challenge.

I shrug my shoulders. "I bet you don't. Too bad you're not the one calling the shots in the future." Because you're dead. Most likely because no one was there to protect you.

His mouth draws into a thin line. He doesn't know the future, but I'm sure he wishes he could have had some sort of influential position. He takes a deep breath, reaching up and removing his ratty hat before running a hand through his dirty blonde hair. "Did John really send you?" he asked, his voice wavering for a moment. He knows that if John Connor sent someone or something back to protect him, then there's some heavy shit about to hit the fan.

I nod again. "But I'm not going to babysit you," I assure him. "I think he expected me to be more of a field partner," I explain. "I already told you before; I'm a medic, and a Private, under Connor." I'm more proud of the medic status, as every person of the future is in some kind of military position. Everyone fights back somehow. No exceptions.

Kyle furrows his brow and replaces the hat to his skull. "You don't even know what you're supposed to do on this mission?" he asks skeptically, a dark shadow crossing his eyes.

"Well when John decides to be vague it's a little tricky to decipher the details, my friend," I retort, turning my palms up in a what-do-you-expect gesture.

"I believe you," he says, very quietly, after a few moments of silence.

I lift my eyes from the damp floor to meet his and I can tell he's speaking the truth. Which is good in some ways and bad in others. He's how old? Nineteen? Seventeen? And who is going to believe what he says? Then again, John is protective of him, so he could hold some swing in the verdict over whether or not I remain in limbo for much longer.

"So," he begins to talk again awkwardly. "What's your name again?" he inquires, blushing slightly, as if I'd be insulted he couldn't remember my name.

"Peth. Carter Peth," I remind him. "And you're Kyle Reese?"

He nods as well. "I find it funny that he never showed you a picture of me or anything."

"A picture of you?" I raise my eyebrow. Obviously I know what pictures are, but I didn't realize there were cameras around for civilian consumption.

Kyle shrugs and sinks down the wall into a sitting position, growing more comfortable around me already. "Well…he has a few pictures that I'm in…I just thought he might have still had them. To show you who you're supposed to…find."

I sigh. "He probably lost them throughout the years. Not on purpose. Just because of accidents and whatnot." He looked like a semi fragile boy who might be crushed if someone got rid of their pictures of him. "Maybe he just wanted to keep them to himself. In a non pediphilish way."

For the first time I see the crack of a smile on Kyle's lips as he silently chortles over my words. I shrug my shoulders and offer him up the same sort of smile. At least it's nice to know that we can stand one another. It'd have been mighty tough watching some guy that I abhorred, or that wanted nothing to do with me. He slowly pushes himself off the ground, holding up his pointer finger. "I'll be right back," he tells me before slipping through the crack in the door before it's shut tight.

I sink back against the wall, not even realizing how much I had actually perked up at a normal conversation with a kid my age. When Kyle returns a few minutes later, he's not alone. He's got Blair with him and his eyes are flitting between the two of us nervously, his hand on her elbow, as if holding her back. "Um, Peth, this is Blair."

I raise an eyebrow in amusement. "I know who Blair is."

Blair's nostrils flare for an instant and she actually appears slightly rabid, much different than the Blair I knew in the future. I gulp subconsciously and find myself shrinking away from her glare, wishing to just absorb into the wall. When Kyle lets his guard down for just a fraction of a second Blair swiftly makes her way over to me, grabbing the collar of the multiple shirts and jacket I sport, tugging me roughly up the wall to where I'm standing. My hands immediately reach up to hold onto her wrists so that her hold doesn't choke me and I barely register that Kyle is yelling out Blair's name, trying to get her to back off or calm down or something. His words are clearly hitting deaf ears.

Blair just stares at me with cold, calculating eyes that hold much more emotion than those of John's when he came in to study me. She takes in my gaping mouth and the way my breathing is shallow and the way my eyes are beginning to roll up into my head as her hold on my apparel becomes tighter and more constricting. She huffs slightly, and finally, after I don't know how long, she lets go, dropping me to the floor and letting me choke for some air. When I'm trying to catch my breath I glance up to see that she's still standing before me, her boots scuffed from wear. I let my eyes travel up to her face. She's staring down with one eyebrow raised, and then she snaps her head to look over at Kyle. "She's safe."

I furrow my brows. That's it? After nearly choking me out all she has to say is that? "What?" I gasp, still not having acquired an even breathing pattern.

Blair tilts her head down towards me again. "You're safe." She rolls her eyes at my confusion. "Do you even remember sometimes that you're part Terminator?" I'm taken aback at her question and instead choose to just blink up at her. She places one hand on her hip. "You didn't even try to defend yourself," she pointed out, knowing full well that I could have easily won in a fight, or at least pushed her away, or thrown her into the opposite wall.

"Oh," I breathe out. "Right."

She shakes her head and glares down at me with this look in her eyes as if I'm the stupidest creature to walk the planet. "And yet we sent _you_ back to protect Reese."

"Hey," I snap in defense of myself, cautiously rising to my feet again, my legs groaning from being in a sitting position for so many hours without being allowed to stretch. "I'm a good soldier, and I can keep him…safe."

I feel as if that word has been passed around a lot in the past few minutes.

"That's what I said," she retorts before retreating from the room and leaving me alone with an awestruck Kyle.

I run a hand through my hair and gulp before offering him a crooked grin. "Don't worry," I smirk. "She mellows out with age."

* * *

**Author's Note:** I also realize that this chapter is much shorter than the first. However, I doubt I could continue to write 3500 word chapters and still keep you captivated...if I've even kept you captivated this far... :D

So please, leave a review with your thoughts and comments and questions. They're much appreciated.


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